"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?"
Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and sh...
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*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*
The music is loud, and the strong musky scent in the room is overbearing. My senses are on overdrive from the booming in my ears, the suffocation of cologne in my nose, and the hand on my bare thigh that causes chill bumps to race across every square inch of my skin.
Every photographer in the room, and there's a lot considering we are at one of the many high end fashion shows taking place at Paris Fashion Week, are trained on Bennett and I rather than the models walking the runway. I'm trying my best to focus on the artistic clothing in front of me, but Bennett is making that extremely hard with how he is throwing himself all over me, milking this PR stunt for all it's worth.
We made our big debut as a couple just last night while walking the streets of Paris, laughing hand in hand. At least then I didn't have to pretend I was cackling, because seconds before the tipped off paparazzi arrived, I purposely spilled my strawberry lemonade all down the front of Bennett's preppy little outfit. That looked great in the photos that circulated the internet the next morning.
I'm just keeping up my end of the promise I made that I would make Bennett and Christine's lives absolute hell.
Now Bennett is trying to get even, and I hate to say that he's doing a really good job of it.
Last night, where my joy was real and his was fake, it's now my turn to pull a fake smile out of my ass.
His hand has been on my thigh since we arrived and took a seat, only creeping farther up when the lights went out to add to the story that he's such a sweet gentleman, keeping PDA at a minimum until he thought no one could see. Those were actually direct orders from our managers themselves.
They didn't want us to look like a prudish political couple, but they wanted us to appear to have some etiquette, our love for each other simply stopping two well mannered young lovers from keeping up with the political status quo.
Once again, that was an actual statement, word for word in fact, that came from Christine Blackwood's mouth.
Every so often, when his blue eyes notice a camera on us, Bennett will lean over and whisper something into my ear that I know I'm supposed to laugh or smile at, and when I don't do it fast enough, he makes sure to let me know how annoyed he is by squeezing my leg a little tighter until my wincing turns into a toothy smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes.
First his comments started a little light hearted, saying things that made me uneasy but were manageable.
"You look really hot tonight, babe. M'trying to control myself here, but you're making it kinda hard," he whispered, adjusting in his seat while all I was allowed to do was lean into him and laugh when I really wanted to jump up and scream.
